Imagine for a moment that you’re in the middle of the ocean, standing on an isolated sandbar, with water lapping gently over it. As far as you can see, there is no land, no ship, nothing but a sea in constant motion. You know that beneath that vast fluid carpet, billions of hungry creatures swirl in search of a meal. This small bit of drenched sand under your feet is unstable. As long as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, the sand is just firm enough to hold you up. If you stop, you immediately begin to sink. In this predicament, think how desperate you would be to have at least one safe spot of solid ground where you can rest, even if it’s just on one foot.

That sounds pretty awful, I know, but it fairly describes what being alive in a universe of constant change is like, if you’re paying close attention. I wasn't aware of it until I heard someone promise me that I could find that motionless spot. I had been unconscious, staying busy so I wouldn’t have to stop and look — the way people do when they don’t want to hear what’s in their food, or that children toil in Asian sweatshops to make their tennis shoes. Ignorance is bliss, they say.

Actually, ignorance is far from bliss. Like network TV and other opiates, it keeps your mind dulled and focused on frivolous things so you don’t have to face the fact that you’re basically clueless and terrified. It enables you to feign mastery before your peers, even though you’re still shifting from foot to foot, keeping your game face on as you squirm inside and hope for the best.

Okay, enough heavy talk. I just wanted to put the next part in perspective.

There is something changeless within me, and by showing me the way to find it, Maharaji gave me access to this stable resting place. You hear the word “peace,” and it sounds nice, but you have no idea what it is until you find that one motionless spot. How do you know when you’ve found it? You stop sinking.

You might say that’s one hell of an impact on a person’s life, and you’d be right. There is a challenge involved, however. Every morning when I wake up, I start from scratch. Each day I make a choice — consciously or by default — to turn within and claim that sacred piece of prime real estate or go about my business blindly and take my chances on the shifting sands.

Not every time that I sit still and attempt the connection do I get spectacular results, although often enough something rather magical happens. Not every time that I dash off on my errands without stopping to find terra firma does everything turn sour either — although there’s clearly something rather crucial missing.

There’s an odd contest between my mind — which can only relate to acquiring stuff and getting things done — and the real me, which only cares about feeling joy right now. The funny thing is, I can actually have both, but only if I get balanced on that one solid spot first, and then stay there while I do everything else. And that’s a freaking challenge like you wouldn’t believe. It’s also a game-changer, because if I can stay with it, I’m on top of the world. Seriously.

When I find myself in that delicious untouchable place, and I realize that what’s been given to me is nothing less than a front row seat on the motionless axle around which all created matter is turning, something truly miraculous happens. My arrogance dissipates, my vision clears, and overwhelming gratitude gushes through me. That’s the ultimate freedom. The real bliss.

Illustration by Sara Shaffer.